The creatures descended like a nightmare given wings.
Emma stood on the water's surface, her heart hammering so hard she thought it might burst from her chest. The boat had pulled back, the man and boy watching her with expressions caught between hope and terror. She wanted to scream at them to run, to hide, to do anything other than stand here waiting for monsters to tear them apart.
But her feet wouldn't move. Or rather—they moved, but only to keep her balanced on the impossible surface beneath her. The water responded to her presence, rippling outward in perfect circles, as if recognizing something in her it had been waiting for.
The first creature reached them in seconds. Up close, it was even worse than Emma had imagined. Its body was vaguely serpentine, covered in scales that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Multiple heads emerged from its writhing neck, each sporting rows of crystalline teeth that chimed like broken glass as they gnashed. Where its shadow fell, the water beneath turned black and still.
Emma threw up her hands instinctively, a wordless cry escaping her lips.
The lake erupted.
A column of water shot upward with such force that it caught the creature mid-dive, slamming it backward through the air. The monster shrieked—a sound like metal scraping against stone—and tumbled away, its multiple heads whipping in confusion.
Emma stared at her outstretched hands. They were glowing faintly, the same pale green as her dress. Droplets of water clung to her fingers, hovering in the air around her palms like tiny planets in orbit.
"I did that," she whispered. "I actually did that."
There was no time to process. Three more creatures dove from the sky, coming at her from different angles. Emma's mind raced. In the story—in her father's story—the Lake Fairy had been able to control water, to shape it to her will. But knowing it in a tale was different from doing it while monsters tried to kill you.
Think, Emma commanded herself. Remember the story. Remember what she could do.
The creatures were nearly upon her. Emma closed her eyes—an insane thing to do with death approaching, but some instinct told her she needed to feel rather than see. She reached out with that strange new sense, that awareness of the water beneath and around her.
The lake responded like an old friend recognizing her voice.
Emma felt it all—every drop, every current, every tiny movement within the vast body of water. It was overwhelming, a symphony of sensation that threatened to drown her consciousness. But beneath the chaos, she found a rhythm, a pulse that matched her own heartbeat.
She opened her eyes and threw her arms wide.
The water obeyed.
Tendrils of lake water rose around her like serpents, dozens of them, hundreds of them, moving with liquid grace. They struck out at the diving creatures, wrapping around wings and limbs, pulling the monsters off course. Two of the creatures collided with each other in midair, their shrieks of rage echoing across the lake. The third tried to veer away, but a whip of water caught it across one wing, and it plummeted toward the surface.
Emma didn't let it hit. Instead, she gestured sharply downward, and the water opened beneath the creature—a swirling vortex that swallowed it whole before closing again with barely a ripple.
"Where did it go?" the boy called from the boat, his voice high with amazement.
"I don't know," Emma admitted, breathing hard. "Away. Somewhere else in the lake."
But there were more coming. The sky was full of them now, a dark cloud of impossible creatures descending from the mountains. Emma could feel her newfound power, but she could also feel its limits. She was one person—one confused, terrified seventeen-year-old girl—against an army of nightmares.
"We have to get to shore," she said, turning to the boat. "Can you—"
The man was already moving, pulling on the oars with desperate strength. The boy had taken up a position at the front, a small bow in his hands—laughably inadequate against the things approaching, but Emma felt a surge of admiration for his courage.
She turned back to the sky and prepared to hold off an army.
The next few minutes blurred together in a chaos of movement and magic. Emma stopped thinking, stopped questioning, stopped being Emma Thorne from Seattle who'd never done anything more magical than mix the perfect hot chocolate. She let instinct take over, let that strange new part of herself guide her actions.
Water became her weapon and her shield. She raised walls of it to block diving creatures, sent lances of it to pierce dark wings, created currents that dragged the monsters down into the depths. Her dress billowed around her, and she realized she was moving—not walking, but gliding across the water's surface, darting and weaving like a dancer.
Some distant part of her mind marveled at it. Another part screamed that this was impossible. But the part in control, the part that felt like it had always been there waiting to wake up, simply fought.
A creature got through her defenses, its claws raking across her arm. Emma cried out, more from shock than pain—the injury was real, blood welling up and dripping into the water. But where her blood touched the lake, something changed. The water began to glow, that same pale green spreading outward in expanding circles.
The creatures recoiled from the light. They shrieked and twisted in the air, their dark forms seeming to diminish, to become less solid.
"Your blood!" the man shouted from the boat, now much closer to shore. "Lady Fairy, your blood weakens them!"
Emma looked at her wounded arm, then at the glowing water spreading around her. In the story, she remembered now, the Lake Fairy's essence was pure magic, the opposite of the Shadow King's corruption. Her very presence in the water had been enough to begin healing the kingdom.
But the story had never mentioned how much it would hurt.
More creatures were coming, and Emma could feel her strength waning. Whatever magic she possessed, it wasn't infinite. Her arms felt heavy. The water was harder to control, responding more slowly to her commands.
"Almost there!" the boy called. "Just a little further!"
Emma glanced toward the shore. They were close—maybe fifty yards from a small beach where several figures waited. She could see them more clearly now: men and women in simple clothes, their faces turned hopefully toward her. A small village or settlement, tucked against the lake's edge beneath the shadow of the mountains.
The mountains where the Shadow King dwelt, according to the story.
A roar split the air—different from the creatures' shrieks, deeper and more deliberate. Emma looked up and felt her blood turn to ice.
Something else was coming. Something much larger than the serpentine monsters she'd been fighting. It descended from the highest peak, its form so massive it seemed to pull the sky down with it. Great wings beat the air, each stroke sending gales across the water. Eyes like molten gold fixed on Emma with terrible intelligence.
"The Shadow King's general," the man in the boat whispered, his voice breaking. "The Dragon of Despair. Lady Fairy, you must flee! Even in the old tales, it took the combined power of three Lake Fairies to—"
"There's only one of me," Emma said, her voice steadier than she felt. "And I don't know how to run on water yet."
The dragon opened its mouth, and Emma saw fire building in its throat—not red or orange, but black, a flame that seemed to consume light itself.
She had seconds to act. The boat was close to shore but not close enough. The people waiting on the beach were in range of that terrible fire. Emma could protect herself, maybe, raise a shield of water high enough and thick enough. But everyone else would die.
Her father's voice came back to her then, clear as if he were standing beside her.
The Lake Fairy wasn't brave because she didn't feel fear. She was brave because she felt it and acted anyway.
"Get to shore," Emma told the man and boy, not looking at them. "Now."
"But you—"
"Now!"
She heard the splash of oars biting desperately into water. Good. Emma spread her arms and dove not away from the dragon, but toward it.
The lake responded to her need, propelling her forward and upward. A pillar of water rose beneath her feet, lifting her into the air. It was insane—she was riding a waterspout, rising to meet a dragon, armed with nothing but magic she'd possessed for maybe twenty minutes.
But the dragon hesitated. Just for a moment, its ancient eyes widened in something that might have been surprise. Emma seized that moment.
She pulled.
Every drop of water in her vicinity responded. The lake itself seemed to rise, drawn upward by her will. It formed around her like armor, like wings, like a creature of her own to match the dragon's terrible form. Emma felt the magic singing through her veins, felt it burning away fatigue and fear, felt it transforming her into something more than Emma Thorne, more than a girl who'd fallen asleep reading.
The Lake Fairy stared into the Dragon of Despair's eyes and smiled.
"Not today," she said.
The dragon unleashed its black fire. Emma met it with a tsunami.